CORRIE

My fork played with my food, gnashing at the plate. That's the only thing I could go to at least entertain myself since Kennedy forced me to have dinner with him and Devon.

I'd initially refused but when he threatened to cut my already short daily visit with Emmette, I had to give him the belief that I was behaved.

And because of that, I was literally treated like a bred puppy. I was bathed in a rose scented water bath, scrubbed till my skin was red, lathered on lotion and dressed in what seemed to be the skimpiest and somewhat modest dress I could fit in. My hair...